


Never Bow Low

by Animercom



Series: Kokichi's Childhood/Backstory [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Antisocial Personality Disorder, But not Kokichi, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Drinking, Gen, Language, Pre-Game Oma Kokichi, Smoking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 03:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18541477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animercom/pseuds/Animercom
Summary: Compulsive liars are often raised in situations in which lying is necessary. But Kokichi needs more than lies to survive his childhood of abuse, abandonment, and betrayal.One possible take on Kokichi's childhood/backstory.





	Never Bow Low

**Author's Note:**

> This fic explores one possibility of many regarding the origin of Kokichi's behaviors, his mention of his family during his Free Time events, and the DICE member discrepancy in his motive video. 
> 
> This fic follows a timeline. The DR V3 game came out January 12, 2017, and, assuming Kokichi was 16 (and a half) during the events of the game, then Kokichi was born June 21, 2000.

_November 1999_

Kagami Oma gasped. “A baby sister?”

His mother patted the boy’s head. Kagami stiffened. “That’s right. I wasn’t supposed to tell you yet, but I have to tell someone. Oh no.” The gas stovetop’s fire had gone out. She twisted a knob. “Oh, please work. Please.” Small flames spurted forth. “Thank goodness. Don’t know how we’d get the money if it broke down too…” The mother retrieved a cutting board from the wooden cabinets above the counter. “Get the carrots from the fridge. I forget to take them out earlier.”

Kagami opened the mini refrigerator. His father’s six-pack beers and whisky bottles occupied every shelf. He acquired the carrots and handed them to his mother. Sighing, Kagami ran a hand down his face. His face was thin, like his mother, with a ski-sloped nose and high cheekbones. He tossed his dark, shoulder length hair.

“Why would we get a baby?” His black eyes evenly assessed the kitchen with his usual flat affect. The wooden cabinets and counters were crisscrossed with nicks like a spiderweb. Walls and white tile backsplash stained with yellow. The lace curtains around the window above the sink had dry rotted. A lopsided table and three rickety chairs were crammed against the back corner. An ashtray, the centerpiece. “Are we going to have enough to feed it?”

“Her. Not it.” Mother beheaded the carrot’s leafy head with a chop. “Never say that again.”

Rolling his black eyes, Kagami wrapped his arms around himself. His well-worn gray sweatshirt and ripped jeans did little against the cold air. November’s chill seeped in through the thin walls of the Tokyo rowhouse. The heater had died. 

Mother pursed her thin lips. Lines had formed between her eyebrows and around her mouth before her time. With her furrowed brows, small eyes, and narrow nose she always looked as if being pinched. “We’ll be fine. We’ll make it somehow.”

Strands of her long black hair fell into her face. Scowling, Mother tucked it back, then wiped her hands on her blouse. The small flower print had faded from years of handwashing. Her fingers lingered on the flower pattern. “It took years to convince him to try again… To pay attention to me instead of someone younger. Years and years. You’re how old now?”

Kagami frowned. “I turned ten a few weeks ago. Don’t you remember?”

“Ten? Goodness, I’m getting old.” A small smile bloomed on her face as she rubbed her stomach. However, she had no baby bump; it was too early for her pregnancy to start showing. “With a girl, this house won’t seem so empty. I’ll play dolls with her and house and dress up…”

Yawning, Kagami leaned against the wood counter next to her. Elbow on the counter, Kagami rested his rounded face on a hand. _That’d be boring. With a brother, I could play Pokémon and Streets of Rage II. Maybe we’d go scavenging together._ “But what if it – the baby’s a boy?”

Mother’s hand stilled. “I’m having a girl.”

“I bet Father would want a boy.”

Like a switch flipping, she hissed, “She’s a girl! My baby being a girl is the one thing he can’t control. The one thing he can’t take from me. Yes, that’s it…” Releasing him, Mother resumed rubbing her stomach. Her whispery soft voice soothed, “I’ll treat her well. Be nice to her. She’ll be pretty and have nice clothes and a good life…” She closed her eyes. “She’ll be safe. We’ll be so happy together.”

Eyes wide, Kagami inched back towards the hallway, to his room.

“Kagami.”

He froze.

“It’s your responsibility to watch her. To protect her. You must be the perfect older brother to her, understand?”

“Yes, Mother.”

Nodding, she resumed cutting the carrots. Kagami stood, half in the hallway. He breathed in the aroma of cooking meat. His mother’s cheap perfume. The lingering stench of the cigarette smoke. The house creaked like a slowly sinking ship. Rhythmic chopping filled the room like a clock counting down the time.

Finished, Mother poured the carrot bits into the pot. “Get the peas.”

Kagami glanced towards the oven. Beef chunks, onions, and potatoes and floated in the pot. He groaned, “Are we having beef stew again?”

“Your father likes it so you’ll eat it or you’ll have no dinner.”

“But this’ll be the third time this week –”

Mother dropped the knife. Seized Kagami’s arm. The knife clattered against the wood flooring. “You will _not_ make any trouble for me. Not now, not tonight, not until the baby is born in July. If your father hits me hard enough, I could lose the baby. I won’t…” Her iron clad grip tightened. Kagami gasped. “I won’t let that happen again. But if it does I will be very, very upset. So you just shut up, stay in your room, and keep quiet.”

Kagami bowed his head low. Nodded.

_Whatever it takes. Just leave me alone._

* * *

_June 2000_

Kagami approached the cradle in his parent’s bedroom. The rickety cradle dated from when Kagami was a toddler. It was placed next to the bed, under his father’s dart board. Kagami leaned over the railing. The newborn baby slept curled on his side. Black fuzz of hair covered his head. Hospital blankets were laid over the baby’s tiny form. “What’s his name?”

Their mother paced back and forth by the bedroom door. Her tall, lean frame was hunched over like a weeping willow. She hugged a white robe to herself. “No, no… It was supposed to be a girl. Her name was to be the noble Emi, meaning beautiful. Eri, a gift. Or Katsumi, to overcome.”

Kagami narrowed his eyes. _Not again._ Kagami’s feminine name meant mirror. To appease his mother, he kept his black hair shoulder-length. _Being called a girl by other kids is annoying._

His father sat shirtless in the recliner next to the bed. Father’s black hair was slicked back as if he fancied himself a movie star from Hollywood. Cigarette dangling from his lip, he pursed a magazine. A woman clad in a bikini lay across a convertible on the cover. Empty whisky bottles and ramen boxes were thrown around the recliner. Before him a box 32” TV rested on a stand. He owned the only TV and recliner in the house. Sighing, Father ground out the cigarette into the recliner’s arm. From his pocket, he pulled out a gold encased lighter. A rearing horse with the word “Oma” was monogrammed on it. He lit another cig. “He should be named after me.”

Kagami snorted.

Father crossed the room in two quick strides. Laid a hand across the nape of Kagami’s neck. Kagami flinched. Glanced up. Father’s over six-foot, well-toned form towered over the boy. His square, prominent jaw clenched. His nose, crooked from a fight, only enhanced, not detracted, from his fierceness. “What was that?”

Kagami swallowed. Breathed in the cigarette smoke. Felt his father’s thick fingers on his neck.

“It would be confusing,” Kagami whispered. “Having two people of the same name. And even if we called him junior or something, when he grows up junior will sound weak. And that’s not acceptable, right, Father?”

Grunting, he slapped Kagami’s back. “Now that’s the right kind of thinking! We are the proud Omas or king horses. My father was SDF officer. And his father before that and his father! For generations, we have kept Japan safe from outsiders. From filthy foreigners who’d interbreed with shameful Japanese and taint our pure bloodline. And one day, you two will join their ranks…”

Kagami shook his head. _Too easy._

A tiny cry rang out. The baby’s red face scrunched up like a raisin. Fussing, he flailed his fists. Kagami offered his index. The newborn latched onto it. All of his fingers wrapped around Kagami’s sole digit. His nails were smaller than even a pencil’s eraser. “What about Koji?” Kagami suggested. “Little one.” _No, h_ _e won’t be little forever. It should be a name that would work for his whole life. Something he can do for us._ “How about… Kokichi? Kokichi Oma.”

Mother wrung her hands. “We can’t afford another. This was my last chance. My last chance to have all those nice things I never had…” Her face twisted. Waving her hands, she left, crying, “You can call that thing whatever you want!” The sound of muffled sobs echoed off the walls.

Father watched her. Sighing, he rubbed a hand across his jaw. Then, stretching, he headed out. “Another son, eh? Calls for a cigar and beer. Hey! Grab me a cold one!”

“Get it yourself!”

“What did you say, you mouthy sonuvabitch?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll get it –”

A smack. Crashing. Kagami tensed. He tried to focus on the sound of his breathing. The baby’s fingers marginally tightened around Kagami’s index. The elder Oma turned back. “Kokichi it is then.” The baby’s lighter eyes focused on him. “Bring a little luck to the family, got it?”

Kokichi’s eyes closed. He fell asleep holding his brother’s finger.  

* * *

_March 2002_

Kagami quietly shut the front door behind him. He paused. Listened. No muted sounds of the TV upstairs. No heavy footsteps or banging. Only the sound of scrubbing from the kitchen. _Just Mother._ After kicking off his shoes, Kagami hefted his backpack on his one shoulder. A few years back, the strap began to fray. Kagami preemptively tore it off like a ripping off band-aid quickly. He headed up the narrow wooden stairwell and opened the door on the right.

His bedroom, like all the other rooms in the house, was small and equipped with only the bare essential furniture. His bed and Kokichi’s cradle lined the right wall. A sole circular window overlooked their beds. On the opposite wall, history books and a Gameboy advance rested on the desk. Exposed wooden beams ran across the ceiling. The house’s musty smell washed over Kagami.

Kokichi, a little over a year and a half, lay in his cradle. He wore a blue shirt stained with formula and a diaper. Clutching a blond doll, Kokichi stared at the far wall. Not sleeping, just staring. Upon Kagami entering, Kokichi stood up. Arms outstretched, he gave a toothless smile. “Oni!”

Kagami scowled. “Onii-chan.” The word for older brother, onii, had two “ii’s”. Oni with one “i” meant demon.  

The tiny toddler bounced up and down. “Onee!” Older sister. Kagami sighed.

The elder brother assessed the toddler. Although of pale skin, Kokichi’s round cheeks were always ruddy. His purple hair brushed his shoulders. From behind unruly bangs, large lavender eyes peered out. All day while Kagami attended school, Kokichi stayed in his cradle. Only a few stuffed animal rabbits and horses kept the toddler company. Their mother had bought doll and other girl toys, but she stopped after a few months. Teething, Kokichi had chomped and sucked on every toy beyond recognition.

Whining, Kokichi pulled on his diaper. “I know.” Kagami slid open the closet along the back wall. A few packs baby bottles and jars of baby food were tossed into the closet. Both were too juvenile for a toddler his age. He obtained a blanket, wipes, and a diaper. Nose wrinkling, Kagami lifted the small boy out of the cradle and laid him on the blanket. With practiced fingers, Kagami deftly changed the saturated diaper. Kokichi whimpered. A large rash had developed; the result of too few diaper changes.  

After washing his hands, Kagami fed Kokichi and refilled the toddler’s bottle. Then Kagami changed out of his school uniform for a black and white striped shirt and jeans. He carried Kokichi downstairs. Bookbag hitting against his back, Kagami passed the kitchen and living room, the only rooms on the first floor. He approached the back door in the kitchen.

“Mommy!”

Kagami paused. Kokichi reached out to their mother. She was scrubbing kitchen’s white wall which had yellowed from Father’s smoking. Father wanted a clean house. They were a family of magnificent stallions, he always said. They did not fester in pigpens like swine. Every day Mother would dust, sweep, perform laundry, wash the oven, and clean the bathroom. But endless hours of scrubbing could not remove the stains.

At Kokichi’s call, Mother paused. Then she continued wiping the wall with a green scrubby cloth. Kokichi began crying. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he reached towards her.

Smirking, Kagami stepped closer. Frowning, he pitched his voice higher and asked, “Why won’t you hold him, Mother? He wants you. Shouldn’t that make you happy? Aren’t you happy, Mother?”

She glared. Smiling, Kokichi chirped, “Mommy, Mommy.”

Flinching, the woman looked away. “I’m not…” She grabbed the rusty bucket, got up, and shuffled towards the sink across the kitchen. “Need to fill this.” The bucket was over half full.

Shaking his head, Kagami headed towards the backdoor. He patted the wailing toddler. “What are you crying for?” He rose his voice. “You should know better than to expect anything from her.”

Kagami stepped outside. The yard, about an eighth of acre, was devoid of everything save grass and dandelions. Chain link fencing separated the lawn from the neighboring rowhouses. A cracked strip of sidewalk lead to the gate. Beyond the gate, a cobblestone driveway served as the driveway. Father’s beat up ’87 Ford pick up truck was gone. Past the driveway, the sprawling suburban back lawns of unattached homes lay. Grills, playhouses, and slides dotted their yards.

Kagami breathed in the fresh air. Smelled like rain. He glanced to the right. Chipped gnomes and empty flowerpots were scatted across the neighbor’s yard. The old woman next door rarely left her house. When she did, she’d hurl rocks at the birds, shouting something about the government. If the boys were too noisy, she’d throw rocks at them, too. Kagami hadn’t seen her in a few months. _Maybe she’s dead._

Kagami descended the three concrete stairs. He set Kokichi down before sitting on the steps. Sniffing, Kokichi totted off. “Get back here.” Kagami reached inside his backpack and pulled out a wooden dump truck. A few days prior, Kagami had found the toy when scavenging the trashcans of houses across the driveway.

Eyes wide, Kokichi hurried over. Kagami held it out of reach. “Say truck.” Arms extended, Kokichi fussed. “Say it. Truck.”

“Tuck,” echoed the toddler. Nodding, Kagami gave it over. Brows furrowed, Kokichi turned the truck over in his hands. He mouthed it.

“No!” Kagami reclaimed the toy and placed it on the sidewalk. Hand over his brother’s hand, Kagami wheeled the truck back and forth. “Like this.”

Kokichi’s eyes grew the size of saucers. “Mine!” He snatched the truck and scampered off.  

Kagami blinked. Shrugging, Kagami grabbed his math book and notebook from the backpack. “Now don’t bother me.”

Babbling, Kokichi rolled his truck down the sidewalk. Head down, Kagami solved the multiplication and division homework in under ten minutes. Then he flipped ahead to chapter 14 and started factoring problems. A slight breeze blew, stirring up the smell of dirt.

Kokichi waddled over. The toddler stood in front of Kagami, watching his brother write. “What?” asked Kagami. Kokichi sucked his thumb. Sighing, Kagami resumed his work.

Kokichi grabbed the notebook and yanked. “Mine!”

Scowling, Kagami seized Kokichi’s wrist. “Drop it.” Kokichi squirmed. Teeth clenched, Kagami squeezed. “I said drop it.”

Whining, Kokichi let go. He fled across the yard. Shaking his head, Kagami returned to his math. “Stupid troublemaker.”

“Oni, Oni!”

Kagami glanced up. Grinning wickedly, Kokichi sat before a mud puddle, truck raised high above his head. “No!” Kagami cried, rising. “Don’t you dare!”

Kokichi smashed the truck into the puddle, splashing mud all over himself. Laughing, he did it again and again.

* * *

_February 2006_

After dark, Kagami slowly closed the front door behind him. He reeked of garbage. A few months back the neighbors across the street caught Kagami rummaging through their trash, forcing him to travel longer distances. He held a tool set hidden beneath his long-sleeved black shirt. Circling other neighborhoods had yielded him the prize of a hand carving wood set. _This could be useful._

“…for yer own good, son,” a voice slurred from upstairs. “I ain’t raising someone whose doesn’t understand rules. Got to be a productive member of society and all that. An SDF officer. And if you can’t follow the rules in the force, they’ll flay you alive. So you should thank me.”

Every muscle in Kagami’s body tensed. After a moment, Father, whisky in hand, lumbered down the steps. In recent years, fat had replaced muscle. His paunch belly sagged over his belt. “Yer out late. Out with girls?” His reddened face smiled. He clapped Kagami’s shoulder. “Good for you. That’s part of the life of an officer, too. Just keep those grades up.”

Kagami clutched his tool set. Belching, Father scratched his gut. Then he fumbled for his lighter in his back pocket. The horse-engraved gold lighter had been wiped away with use, revealing the bronze underneath. “Situation under control, lieutenant,” he saluted before heading towards the kitchen. He roared with laughter.

Kagami watched his back. He fisted his hands so tightly his nails broke skin.  

Kagami ascended the stairs and entered his bedroom. A toddler bed replaced Kokichi’s old cradle. Ripped board game boxes and a Nintendo DS games were piled against the back wall. Kokichi sat on the edge of his bed, holding his shoulder. He gazed at the floor. Dust particles floated in the stagnant air, slowly falling.  

Kagami set the tool set on the desk. “You crying?”

Sniffing, Kokichi hurriedly rubbed at his face. “No.” Another tear slipped down his cheek.

“What happened?”

The five-year-old swallowed. Voice shaking, he explained, “School wasn’t good today. When I was walking to school, some other kids asked if I knew some show. They laughed at me cuz I didn’t.” With Father owning the only TV, the boys couldn’t watch shows or play console games. The last time Kokichi snuck into their bedroom for the TV Mother smacked his head into the wall. Kokichi said he saw stars.

Thinking, Kagami bit his thumb nail. “Let’s see. You lied about knowing it and then when you couldn’t name a character, they laughed. Just like when you lied about playing some video games they knew.” Kokichi ducked his head. The elder brother sighed. “If you don’t want them to pick on you, then show them you shouldn’t be messed with.”

“How do I do that?”

“Figure it out yourself. If you can’t, then you’ll never be able to defend yourself against those who’d take advantage of you.” He looked at Kokichi’s shoulder. “Of those who’d hurt you.”

“But it’s not just the other kids. It’s the teachers, too. My teacher was mad cuz I didn’t have my homework. It got all muddy and ripped when the other kids dumped my backpack into the road. But the teacher thought I was lying. Then a whole lotta teachers yelled at me in front of everyone. Said if I couldn’t stop lying, I’ll never be a good grownup.” Kokichi squirmed. “Sooo… I ran away and went home. I wannaed to play with Mommy! But Mommy didn’t talk to me. She tattled on me when Daddy came home.” Kokichi gripped his shoulder tighter. “He didn’t like me leaving school early…”

Kagami approached the bed, arms crossed. “If you were going to leave school early you shouldn’t have come back home. This is the consequences of your actions.”

“Daddy said he was sowwy. That this makes me a good boy.”

Jaw set, Kagami lifted up Kokichi’s shirt. A yellowing bruise the size of a fist covered his abdomen. His voice hardened like flint. “Did he apologize after this one, too?”

Kokichi flinched. “I dunno. Can’t remember.”

_Why do you and Mother believe his pathetic excuses?_

“I just don’t wanna play by myself…” Sniffing, Kokichi fisted the white bedsheets. “But the kids at school push me around. My teachers yell at me. Daddy hits me.” His lip quivered. “Why me? Why not you?”

Kagami swallowed. _Because I don’t stand out at school. Get decent grades. If Father tried to hit me, I’ll leave. And if I go, they’ll have to start taking care of you._

Sniveling, Kokichi looked up. Tears trailed down puffy cheeks. “Am I a bad boy…?”

Kagami stilled. His mouth went dry. The stagnant air roared in his ears. The smell of must smothered him.

Inhaling, Kagami kneeled, coming level with his brother. “Listen up. Keep your head down until I’m 20, when I become an adult. When we won’t have to depend on them for food and a place to sleep anymore. We’ll leave. I’ll get some job delivering packages or stocking store shelves. Something to put food on the table. And when you’re my age you’ll do the same. You just keep working ‘til you get old and die and find out what the afterlife is. If there’s any.” Kagami gazed into the distance. Shook his head slightly. “That’s what life is. All you have to do is blend in.”

“That sounds like what Daddy says.”

Like being a productive member of society.

Kagami launched from the floor. “I’m nothing like him!”

Eyes wide, Kokichi cowered back.   

Exhaling, Kagami turned and ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. He retrieved a KitKat from his desk. “Here. Take this and be quiet. I have an essay to write.”

For a moment, Kokichi stared at his brother, still hugging himself. Then he slowly relaxed. Once he finished the candy, Kokichi sniffed. Blubbering, he whined, “C-can I have that, too, Onii-chan?” He pointed to the bottle of Panta on the desk. “Pwetty pwease?”

“No.” Kagami had stolen a classmate’s wallet to get the vending machine’s change. “It’s mine.”

Tears vanishing, Kokichi’s face scrunched in a scowl. “Stinky butt!”

“Name calling won’t help.”

“Stupid!”

“Am not!”

“Are too! Stupid, dummy, idiot, poopy brain!”

“What’s 56 times 3?”

Kokichi paused. He counted on his fingers. “What’s the answer?”

Smirking, Kagami crossed his arms. “I don’t know. Do you?”

“Yeah, it’s 168.” Kokichi blew out his tongue. “You didn’t know, so you’re stupid, Oni!”

Kagami blinked. Shook his head. He handed over the Panta. Squealing with delight, Kokichi unscrewed it. Just as he was about to drink, Kagami flicked his cheek. “ _Cheeky_ , Kichi,” he said in English.

Frowning, Kokichi held his face. “What’s that mean?”

“Look who’s stupid now?”

Growling, Kokichi poured the Panta down Kagami’s pants.

* * *

_May 2007_

_Scrrrck. Scrrrck. Scrrrck._

Kagami listened to the rhythmic sound of him whittling. Bits of wood fell to the bedroom floor like snow. Switching tools, Kagami carved two circles for eyes into the knight chess piece. He set the piece next to its finished mate sitting on the desk. Squinting, Kagami bit his thumb. One half of the rounded body was larger than the other. Nodding, Kagami returned to his original blade and reshaped the side.

_Scrrrck. Scrrrck. Scrr–_

“Oh no, it’s checkmate. I give up… Ahahaha! That was a lie! I got you right where I wanted you. Behold my strongest attack: Kamehamehaaa!”

Brow raised, Kagami glanced down. Kokichi was curled up beneath the desk, knees raised, and playing chess on his Nintendo DS. He wore a baseball cap and a matching red blanket tied around his neck like a crude cape. Frowning, Kokichi bit his thumb nail. “Hm, that didn’t go like I thought. Should of did the Spirit Bomb instead.” Kokichi pressed a few buttons on the DS. “It’s okay, I can still make it…”

_More Dragon Ball Z references? Why hasn’t he gotten bored of that brainless show?_

Eventually Kagami got tired of hearing Kokichi’s daily stories of being bullied. So they snuck into their parent’s bedroom to watch anime. When Mother yelled, Kagami threatened to tell Father she’d been seeing someone else. It wasn’t true – she wouldn’t dare – but if the mere idea was suggested to Father, he’d go ballistic. Mother hadn’t said anything since.

Kagami studied his brother. Same high cheek bones. Shoulder length hair. Same image of biting their thumb. Although Kokichi’s face retained his boyish roundness, had a smaller nose, and wavier, lighter hair, any stranger could tell at a glance they were brothers. _Mirror images._ Kagami exhaled a laugh. _Maybe Mother did give me the right name by calling me mirror. The sole right thing she did._

Kokichi looked up. “Whatcha doing?”

“Looking at myself.”

Pulling down an eyelid, Kokichi stuck out his tongue. “Nuh uh. You’re waaay uglier, Oni. And you always smell like trash. Especially your feet! I can’t breathe down here – Oof!”

Kagami shoved his foot into Kokichi’s face. “ _Cheeky_ Kichi.”

Huffing, Kokichi pushed it away. “What does that _mean_?”

“It means you’re a little shit.”

“Nee-heeheehee! You said poop!”

Kagami rolled his eyes. He resumed carving the chess piece.

“Um, Onii-chan?” Eyes downcast, Kokichi reached into the pocket of his sweatpants. Three bright yellow papers. Notes requesting a parent-teacher conference.

Sighing, Kagami placed the knight and blade onto the desk. Pinching his nose, Kagami breathed in the smell of must and moth balls. “What did you do now?”

Kokichi laughed. “Nothing! They’re for my classmates. I told Akari to _kancho_ the teacher.” In the _kancho_ prank, kids clasp their hands, index fingers pointing out like a gun, and shove their hands up someone’s bottom. “Then I got Yatsuki to pull down the teacher’s pants. And I gave Pao five hundred yen to do both.”

Smirking, Kagami crossed his arms. “Let’s see. You paid him with his own money that you stole earlier.”

“Uh huh! Now all you gotta do is sign these papers for their parents. Say you’re too busy to come in. Like how you did with my old notes. The other kids gave me things their parents wrote on so you can copy their handwriting.”   

 _Smart thinking, brother. Uniting your bullies against a common enemy, cementing you as their leader. And covering for them ensures their loyalty to you._ “So you didn’t get caught.”

“Nope! They think I’m a good boy now. The teachers leave me alone and the other kids don’t push me around.” Grinning, Kokichi grabbed the brim of his baseball cap. “No one messes with me now!”

“Is that why you’ve been wearing that cap and cape lately? Think you’re some hero?”

Frowning, Kokichi set down his DS. “No, I’m the bad guy. Cuz I’m a bad boy. But that’s okay. They’re way better than the boring, easy-to-read good guys! Like how Vegeta is way cooler than Goku! And Joker’s really funny in Batman!”

Kagami assessed the soon-to-be eight-year-old. Though dressed in sweats, he wore a cape and his cap was tilted at a cocky angle. A faded bruise peaked out by his shirt collar, but sparks lit up Kokichi’s eyes. “You certain about this?” He nodded. Kagami smiled. “Then there’s much for you to learn. To be trained for.”

The elder Oma rose from the chair. From the back corner of the closet, he retrieved a board game box. Risk. The game of world domination.

Kokichi crawled out from under the desk. “What’s that? If we’re gonna play a game, I wanna do chess!”

Kagami began distributing the plastic soldiers. “Our win-lose ratio is pretty close to 50/50, isn’t it? 13 to 11 with you in the lead.” He smirked. _But not for long, brother._

“Nuh uh! It’s 5,789 to 0.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Nee-heehee. Yes, it is.”

Kagami handed the how-to-play manual over. “Risk is about using strategies in a real-world setting. Commanding an army to fight opponents and conquer countries around the world. In that regard, chess is more two-dimensional.”

“Then why is there dice? That’s no strategy game.”

“Risk relies on luck, yes.” Kagami paused in setting up the game. Stared into Kokichi’s lavender eyes. “In the game of Risk, there’s luck. But in life, there are unforeseen occurrences. The best plans of world leaders can crumble into dust due to an unknown factor. Good thing that’s what your name means: a little luck.” 

Brow raised, Kokichi studied a pair of dice, rolling it with his fingers. “Luck, huh? Dice can do all that…”

“Exactly.” Kagami shuffled the cards of countries then divided the pile into half. “These are the countries you control. State a fact about them before you place your pieces down.”

“‘Kaaay!” Kokichi drew Eastern United States. “ _I speak English!_ ”

“ _They speak English there_. Repeat after me.” Kokichi complied. “Now continue.”

“Western Australia. They got kangaroos!”

After a few minutes, Kokichi read his last card. “And Egypt. Umm. They have those pointy things –”

“Kokichi!” Heavy steps pounded up the stairs.

They froze. Father had never called for one of them before. Never. Kagami glanced at his brother. White-faced, Kokichi shook his head. He hadn’t done anything.

Kagami rose from the floor, fists clenched. _Must have lost a fortune at the horse races._

Jaw quivering, Kokichi wrung his hands. “W-what should I do?”

Lips pursed, Kagami shoved Kokichi under his desk. “Don’t move. Don’t make any noise.” He dashed to the closet, opened it, and snatched a rectangular wooden board. He began placing the panel in front of Kokichi. The grain of the board matched the pine wood of the desk. A false wall Kagami had carved.

Wide-eyed, Kokichi reached out a hand. “Wait, Onii-chan. Maybe I should…”

“Do what?”

“I-I dunno…”

Kagami shoved the wall into place. “Then shut up. Plan for next time. In the meantime…” Kagami cut a glance to the door. “I’ll handle him.”

* * *

_August 2007_

Kagami walked down the uneven sidewalks of Tokyo. Latest finds like book about the history of martial arts, more rusty blades for carving, and a PSP with a cracked screen weighed his bookbag down. Laundry hung out to dry outside of wooden ranch houses. Cicadas hummed. One man wrapped in newspapers sat on the curb, a can before him. Across the road, children ran home, bug nets in hand. Laughing, they jostled each other.

Kagami rounded the corner, arriving on his home street. Their house was the second-to-last rowhouse on the other end. Orange and a faint pink blushed across the sky. Yawning, Kagami stretched his arms overhead. _I should look for a net next time. Should keep him preoccupied for a while._

A boy’s scream pierced the air.

“Kokichi!” Kagami tore down the street, ditching his backpack. He slammed the front door open, and jumped up the stairs two at a time. Burst into his bedroom door.

Father stood by the desk, belt in hand. His face was flushed from drinking. Mother sat on far end of Kokichi’s toddler bed. Wincing, she hugged her baggy clothes to her anorexic frame. Leaned away. The closet was open with a few wooden boards pulled up. Video games, action figures, and mangas were flung across the floor. Candy, too. Yellow notes from teachers.

In the center of the room, Kokichi was bowled over. Red, raised welts covered his back. Blood oozed from open gashes.

Kagami hissed, “You…”

“Ah, perfect timing.” Grinning, Father held his square jaw. Ran a tongue over his yellowed, crooked teeth. “Tell him.”

Voice shaking, Kokichi spoke into the floor. “I… I’m sorry… P-please –”

He kicked a boot into Kokichi ribs. “TELL HIM!”

Crying out, Kokichi curled into a ball. Gasping, Mother stood from the bed and backed into the room’s corner.

Whimpering, Kokichi dug his fingers into his head. His small form trembled. “I stole… I stole stuff from stores.” He swallowed. Voice thickened. “Cuz I wanted the other kids to think I was… I was cool. Made t-trouble at school. Didn’t tell Mommy and D-Daddy about it. And…”

Snarling, Father ground his heel into Kokichi’s head. “Tell him what you _are_!”

Hands on floor, Kokichi groveled. “I am, I’m a thief. A liar. A bad boy. A bad, bad boy. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” The boy muttered more apologies, but with his sobs it was unintelligible. 

Growling, Father shoved Kokichi’s head with his foot. “You are worthless trash! Next thing you know is you’ll drop outta school. Be some druggie ‘til you overdose or rot behind bars. A scum sucking, parasite on society. You’ll never become an SDF officer now. Filthy garbage!”

“And why would he want to be that?” Kagami kneeled down. The metal smell of blood sharpened. “Why are you apologizing? I thought you wanted to be a villain.”

Kokichi stilled, his cries quieting. He sniffed. Nodded.

“Then be the worst villain that ever lived. Set the world on fire. Laugh as it burns. Together we can rule over the remains. So, Kokichi, never bow low to anyone.”

A hoarse choking noise – a laugh. “S-Stupid, Onii-chan. I’m beating you in chess, so I’m smarter.” Kokichi rose onto his elbows and lifted his head. Tears and snot were smeared across his cheeks. Split, swollen lips. Black eye. But a slow, bright flame burned in his eyes. He grinned. “I’m the leader. You take orders from me.”

Kagami smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

The belt snapped across Kokichi’s face. Shouting out in pain, Kokichi fell against the floor.

Veins bulged on Father’s neck. Eyes narrowed to slits, he whipped Kokichi’s back repeatedly. Kokichi screamed. The smell of blood sharpened. Pale as a ghost, Mother pressed herself into the room’s corner.

Kagami reached out and seized the belt. Wrenched it from his father’s grasp.

Father stumbled back. “Y-you…!”

Kagami assessed his father. Yellowed, missing teeth. Graying roots. Sagging beer gut. Kagami smiled.

Nostrils flared like a bull, Father swing back his fist. “You sonuvabitch!”

“No!” Kokichi threw himself between them.

Father backhanded Kokichi across the face. Kokichi’s head cracked against the desk’s corner. He collapsed. Lay still.

Mother gave a strangled cry.

“Ha, that’ll teach the little shit.”

Kagami froze. An icy coldness emanated from his core. He rose to his feet. Snatched the wood carving knife on the desk.

Eyes wide, Father growled, “You wouldn’t dare –”

Kagami lunged.

* * *

Kagami stood in the backyard. The chilly night sent his hair standing on end. A slight wind blew, ruffling his dark hair. He tossed a broken whisky bottle he held. Dropped a lighter. The horse engraved gold lighter gleamed in the light. Kagami grinned.

The rowhouse was burning. Hot flames licked the dingy white siding. Smoke plumed into the cloudless night. Cinders freely danced through the air. The acrid smell of smoke stung his nose. Sirens wailed in the distance.

Kagami kneeled down, picked up Kokichi’s unconscious body, and hoisted him over a shoulder. He turned and walked away.  

Something rumbled through his chest. A low noise escaped his lips. Smile stretching across his face, Kagami chuckled. He threw his head back and laughed. His peals echoed through the night.

* * *

Kagami sat at the foot of the hospital bed. He looked around. White walls. White tiled floors. White bedsheets. No windows. Next to the raised head of the bed, an IV drip hung and a monitor displayed the heart rate. The EKG beeped rhythmically.

Kagami gazed at his brother. Bandages encircled his head. Around his torso. One eye had completely swollen shut. His split lip, although puffy, had stopped bleeding. A blue hospital gown hung from his thin frame.

Inhaling, Kagami breathed in the smell of antiseptic alcohol. The moment Kagami entered the hospital, Kokichi over his shoulder, the nurses likely notified child protective services. Yesterday Kagami had already spoke with a police officer. Unfortunately, Kagami still wore the school uniform of his school across the city of Tokyo. _If the police realize…_

A hoarse voice asked, “Where’s Mommy?” Kagami glanced up. Kokichi’s face was a pale as the white bedsheets. His good eye stared up at the ceiling.

“She’s not coming.”

A long moment of silence. Just the EKG beeping. “Daddy?”

“You know that’s not happening.”

Kokichi shut his one uninjured eye. Turned his head away. Sweat plastered his purple bangs to his forehead. “Are you okay?”

Lips pursed, Kagami gazed down at the tiled floor. A vision of the burning house flashed though his mind. Hearing the fire crackle and hiss. The smell of smoke. “I’m fine.

“Listen close, now. Sit up.”

Kokichi opened his eye. Sucking in a sharp breath, Kokichi pushed himself up higher. Sat forward.

Kagami raised his head. Narrowed his eyes. “Our parents are dead. After father was punishing you, a fire started. The house burned to the ground with them inside. Nothing was spared.”

All the blood drained from Kokichi’s face. His mouth hung open. “You… You’re lying.”

Kagami blinked. “When have I ever lied to you? They’re dead.”

Gritting his teeth, Kokichi balled the bedsheets into fists. The EKG began beeping faster. “You’re lying!”

Shoulders tense, Kagami warned, “Quiet. You’ll alert the nurses. If the nurses think something is wrong, they’ll take me away. You don’t want that, do you?”

Shaking his head, Kokichi shouted, “You’re lying, you’re lying, you’re ly–!”

Kagami pulled a book tucked in his waist band and threw it onto the bed. A half-burned manga. Kokichi made a strangled noise. “No…” Kokichi closed his eye. Tears leaked down his cheeks. He trembled like a leaf. “Nooo…” he moaned. “They can’t be… Bring them back!”

Jaw clenched, Kagami spat, “Why do you care about them?”

“They’re Mommy and Daddy!”

“What, don’t tell me you thought they would ever love you.”

“You’re so mean.” Kokichi brought up his knees, curling into a ball. “You’re always so mean! Do you not want me, too?”

Sighing, Kagami ran a hand through his hair. He sat down next to his brother. “Look, the family’s not entirely gone. I’m here.”

Face to his knees, Kokichi shook his head. “You’re not Mommy or Daddy.”

“I… I can be. I can be your Dad. And maybe…” Kagami exhaled. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll find someone to be your mom. If there’s any kids, you’d be the older brother. That would be a new family.”

The EKG’s frantic beeping slowed. Kokichi sniffed. He raised his head, large eyes swimming with tears. “Really?” A faint smile appeared. Kokichi hugged his elder brother. Kagami stiffened. Gripping tightly, Kokichi buried his face into Kagami’s chest. Sobs racked his tiny body. 

Exhaling, Kagami gingerly laid a hand on his back.

* * *

_December 2007_

Kagami browsed the general store. A wooden fruit basket sat the end of every aisle. Shelves of medicine, tools set, and hardware supplies lined the walls. Empty spaces with sold items pockmarked the racks. Tacky globe light fixtures hung from the ceiling. Kagami slipped behind the food aisle. The teenager slid his backpack off.

Kokichi opened the glass door. The bell rang. A local elementary school uniform hung off his thin frame. Kagami wore the high school’s dress code. Kokichi’s scuffed up sneakers squeaked across the rock tile flooring. He ran a finger down the magazine shelf by the door. “No mangas. Aww, I wanted to read _Shōnen Jump_ …” Frowning, Kokichi glanced up. “Ooh! Candy!” He scurried up to the glass register in the back.

Cigarette in his mouth, the balding man behind the counter stared down at him. The owner had a meaty arm laid across his potbelly. Tobacco juice and dirt stained his green apron. Humming, Kokichi dug through the rack of candy jars. “I want some Kitkats and M&Ms… Guess I’ll take gummy bears, too. And, oh! Gotta get some Snickers!”

Sighing, Kagami shook his head. _You’re supposed to get something more substantial…_ Hidden behind the aisle, Kagami shoved fruits, a loaf of bread, and vegetables into his backpack.

Kokichi placed the goodies on the counter. “I want these.” He searched his pockets for money but came up empty. Frowning, Kokichi doffed his backpack, held it in front of him, and unzipped it. “There it is.” Kokichi held out a handful of change.

The owner took a drag on his cigarette. “You’re 300 yen short, kid. And I ain’t never seen you ‘round these parts.”

“Mommy and Daddy and I just moved here cuz Daddy’s work told him to.”

“What’s his job?”

“He’s… a teacher.”

The owner raised an eyebrow. “A teacher who transferred in the middle of the school year.”

Kokichi laughed, “Yeah, well, he’s actually a principal.” Biting his lip, Kokichi bowed his head. “I know I don’t have enough money, but I’m really hungry and it’s a long walk home. I don’t get too much candy often sooo…” Kokichi lifted his head, tears swimming in his eyes. “Pwetty pwease? I’ll come back with the rest tomorrow.”

The owner studied the boy from head to toe. His school uniform was slightly wrinkled, but untattered. The soles of his sneakers were about to fall off. They appeared as if a muddy dog had mistaken the shoes for a chew toy. The owner’s eyes narrowed. “I’d think the kid of a principal would be carrying more change on him. And have better shoes.”

Kokichi froze.

Kagami coughed – their signal.

Tears gone, Kokichi pulled down an eyelid and stuck out his tongue. “Stupid! It was all lies!” He slid the candy off the counter into his open backpack. Putting it on, he ran towards the door, laughing. Kagami also donned his backpack.  

“Pieces of shit, you sewer rats! Always coming after my store!” The owner ripped a rake off the wall and, wielding it like a pitchfork, rounded the corner of the register. “Get back here, goddamn it!”

Kokichi slowed. Kagami bodily slammed open the door. He seized Kokichi’s wrist and dragged the boy onto the sidewalk. “Run, you idiot!”

“R-right!”

Kagami and Kokichi dashed through the streets, before disappearing into the alleyways. The owner’s furious cries rang out after them.

* * *

Grunting, Kagami opened the storage unit’s door. He glanced behind him. Head down, Kokichi stared at the ground, muttering something. At Kagami’s prompting, the boy entered the unit. Pulling on the string, Kagami slid the overhead door down.

Kagami flicked on the magnetic lights. Metal sheet roofing and walls enclosed the 10 by 20-foot space. Kagami’s half of the room was mostly bare except for a clothing pile, textbooks, and nearly finished hand-carved chess set. A sprawling Lego village Kokichi created was populated with action figures and Hot Wheel cars. Candy were strewn everywhere. Blankets were laid next to the warm pipes running down the back wall.

Kagami crossed the cement flooring to the food cooler in the back. Opening his backpack, Kagami transferred the latest haul into the food storage. “Tell me your impression of the shop and the owner. Your analysis.”

Kokichi let his bookbag slide off his back and plopped down his bedding. He rubbed his arms. A permanent chill radiated off the metal sheet walls. “There weren’t any popular magazines or the latest issues of what mags where there. And empty spaces on the shelves – the owner didn’t restock. Or change his dirty apron. Plus he smoked indoors, which could bother some people. All signs that the owner doesn’t care about his shop.”

“That’s it? Anyone could have realized that. You need to observe the environment and how the person presents themselves, and deduce what kind of person they are. Then you can sell the best lie to them.”

Kokichi shrugged. “He’s lazy. Duh.”

Frowning, Kagami pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not getting it.”

“Who cares? We got the candy, didn’t we? And I did a totally awesome job lying!”

Finished unloading, Kagami replaced his stolen local school uniform with sweats. “Hardly. You did adequate in acting innocent. But when he didn’t believe your poorly crafted lie, you cracked under pressure. Always enter situations with at least three plans in mind: the original plan, the backup, and a contingency. Assume the worst will occur and be prepared. Predict, not react.”

Sighing, Kokichi rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, Onii-chan. I’ll do better next time.”

“There won’t be a next time. Not until you relearn the basics: people watching, practice lying, and devising strategies to steal things. We’ll push aside your academic studies and start people watching first thing in the morning.”

Groaning, Kokichi flopped onto this back. “Whyyy? It’s getting really cold at night and I never sleep good. I don’t wanna.”

Kagami cut his brother a glare. “Do you want to go back to living in cardboard boxes?” Kokichi winced. “I said do you?”

“No.”

“Then stop whining. Our ability to lie and steal keeps us from being those useless street urchins forced to beg.”

Scowling at his brother, Kokichi zipped open his backpack, grabbed some candy, and threw the covers over himself. Kokichi rolled over, his back facing Kagami. “You bully,” he muttered. “Always so mean.”

Sighing, Kagami retrieved his wood carving tools underneath his pillow. He glanced back at his brother. Kokichi was staring at a Snickers bar. “Stomach ache?” asked Kagami. To remain off the grid, the two only stole food sparingly; the rest came from hours of daily dumpster diving. Indigestion was common risk when eating moldy food.

Kokichi shook his head. “That store guy… he called us sewer rats.” Frowning, Kokichi let the bar drop onto his blue rocket ship blanket. “I thought we were supposed to be villains…”

Smirking, Kagami lounged on the cooler. “We are.” Knife in hand, he began carving the last chess piece for the set.

Kokichi flung back the blanket and sat up. “No, no, not like this. I mean, all villains gotta have a cool secret headquarters, right? And stupid minions to boss around. See, I was thinking we could have bunch of other kids who steal food on our orders while we sit on thrones! And instead of going on missions to steal clothes and stuff, we’ll just get back at the old grouchies like that store owner.” Eyes sparkling, Kokichi clasped his hands. “Doesn’t that sound suuuper awesome? Totally fun, right?”

Shaking his head, Kagami cut off a sliver on the chess piece’s body. “That only happens in anime. What we have now is enough.”

Kokichi clenched his fists. They trembled. “Then why can’t we go to the movies? Or roller skating or to amusement parks? I always wanted to do those things!”

Kagami gestured with his knife to Kokichi’s Lego village. “I let you steal your toys so you’re not bored. Anything else is a waste of money.”

Kokichi launched to his feet. “Then get a job!”

“Why should I? We have all we need.”

“You promised!”

“Promised what?”

“To get a job so we can have a house and you find someone to be my mommy so I can be a big brother!”

“Oh.” Air humming through the pipes filled the silence. “I did say that.”

Kokichi’s eyes widened. “You… you don’t remember?” Biting his lip, Kokichi hung his head. “How could you…?”

Kagami shrugged. “We don’t need anyone else. We’ve learned how to navigate the back alleys blindfolded. Know the local gang’s hangouts to avoid. There’s no one here to tell us what to do. We are beholden to no one. Self-sufficient.” Kagami etched the last tip on the chess piece’s crown. Finished, Kagami pocketed the tool and set the piece on the chess board. The king towered above the pawns. He grinned. “We are our own kings.”

Kokichi hissed, “King of what? A trash dump?”

Kagami tensed. “You should be grateful.”

“Like I should have thanked Daddy for hitting me?”

Hands balled into fists, Kagami rose. “I am nothing like him.”

“You’re right. You’re totally right.” Hand thrown out to the side, Kokichi shouted, “You’re worse! You never helped me with the bullies at school or stopped Daddy from hitting me. You’d tell me to figure it out on my own. You just said whatever you needed to so I would leave you alone, didn’t you? You forgot your promise. You’re a liar! You don’t care about me at all. You’re way worse than Mommy and Daddy! The meanest, evilest villain in the whole wor–Urgk!”

Kagami crossed the room in two quick strides. Seized Kokichi’s neck. Raised him in the air. “Shut. Up.”

Kokichi’s eyes flashed. Snarling, he clawed at Kagami’s hand. Raked his fingers across Kagami’s arm, drawing blood.

Kagami hissed in surprise. Tightened his grip. “You little shit!”

Nostrils flared, Kokichi swiped at Kagami’s face. Scowling, the elder Oma leaned back, out of reach. Tightened his grip. The boy made a strangled noise. His face reddened. Kokichi tried to peel back his brother’s fingers.

Teeth bared, Kagami snarled, “If you want to survive, you’ll do as I say.”

Grimacing, Kokichi choked, “I bow… to no one. Including you.”

Kagami gasped. Grip loosened. Gasping, Kokichi collapsed to the ground. Bowled over, Kokichi held his stomach. His tiny form racked with coughs. Voice raw, Kokichi rasped, “I hate you. All I wanted… was a family. And you took that away from me.”

The memory of the house burning flashed before Kagami’s eyes. Exhaling, Kagami dipped his head. Kokichi’s coughs echoed through the storage house. Air roared through the pipes. From his pocket, Kagami pulled out the carving blade. Reversed his grip on its wooden handle.

Face etched like stone, Kagami raised the blade.

* * *

Muttering to herself, Yuna pecked keys on a computer keyboard. The elderly woman adjusted her gold framed glasses and, squinting, studied the box computer monitor. She clicked a button. Drop boxes asking for identification info filled the screen. The old woman scowled.

A knock on the door. Hanami, a young woman in her twenties, entered, coffee in hand. “Good morning!” Smiling, she placed the cup next to the older caretaker. The employee glanced over the office, then shook her head. “Always such a mess. Why don’t you let me clean up a bit?”

Messy stacks of photos, children’s drawings, and letters from families were shoved to the desk’s corner. Color-coded scribbles filled the desktop calendar’s boxes. Shutters were drawn over the windows behind the desk. Bookshelves lined the side walls stuffed with psychology books.

Yuna grunted, “Hmph. If I did, you’d hang up the pictures of the brats.” Hanami sighed.

Hanami glanced at the screen. “Filling out the sheet? How can you? He hasn’t woken up yet. And there wasn’t a letter or even a keepsake either.” Frowning, Hanami rubbed her arms. “You saw, right? Shouldn’t we call the police –?”

“Waste of taxpayers’ money. Won’t get anywhere but dead ends, I’m sure. In all my forty years working here I never saw someone in such a state. Knocked unconscious, tied up, and left on the doorstep like a sack of potatoes. You know what that means? They were glad to be rid of a dangerous brat like him. And so will we. We ship him out to the first ones available and when he causes trouble, we send him out to the next one. He’s cute enough. If he shuts his mouth, he should keep being chosen.”

“But those bruises on his neck… if he was being abused why leave him here? Why not the streets?”

The old woman paused. “That is odd. But what does it matter? Either way he’s been –”

The door slammed open. A small youth stood in the doorway. Dressed in sweats two sizes too large, the boy appeared no older than five or six. Frazzled purple hair framed a wide-eyed, pale face. “Where am I?”

Hanami flinched. “Oh, uh, um…”

Sighing wearily, Yuna stood up. “This is the Children’s Orphanage of Kyoto.”

The boy blanched. He fled.

Hanami shouted, “W-Wait!” She ran after him. The bell of the front door rang.

Shaking her head, Yuna smoothed out her cardigan. Sipped her coffee. Too lukewarm. On arthritic knees, Yuna shuffled towards the front door. The smell of trash and car exhaust assailed her. People walked through the trash littered streets, heads down and shoulders slumped. Cars moved at a crawl, drivers blowing the horn.

The boy stood on the sidewalk, head swiveling, taking in the area. “I don’t… Where? Onii-chan, where are you?”

Hanami stood a safe few feet away. She raised a tentative hand. “We didn’t see anyone with you…”

“No… Onii-chan…” He fell to his knees. Shoulders shaking, he hugged himself. “I’m so…” Hiccupped. “I’m so sorry. I take back everything I said.” He sucked in shaky, shuddering breaths. “Please. You’re all I have. You’re my… my family.” Gritting his teeth, he shook his head. Dug his fingers into his scalp. Tears and snot ran down his face. “Don’t leave me! I don’t wanna be alone! Onii-chan… Onii-chaaaaaaan!” His wails reverberated through the streets.

Yuna muttered, “What does it matter? Either way he’s been abandoned.”

* * *

_August 2009_

Lieutenant General Mori strode through the hallway at the SDF headquarters. Frowning, Mori flipped through a clipboard. A list of shipments arrived this morning – supplies, training equipment, weapons, and soldiers permanently relieved from active duty overseas. Mori shook his head – the list grew longer every year. He even recognized a few names from training them here at base. Sighing, the general stopped and opened the door to his office.

Rows of plaques gleamed on the wall behind his desk. Japan’s flag stood in one corner, a glass display of helmets in the other. A world map covered the left wall with bookshelves opposite. Two simple carver chairs stood before the mahogany executive desk. Not a speck of dust in sight. Mori saluted the flag.

A boy peeked his head over the carver chair’s back. “You kept me waiting. Have a seat.”

Mori raised his 9mm pistol. The clipboard nosily fell to the linoleum floor. A wide, easy smile grew across the boy’s face. He held up a hand. “At ease, Lieutenant. I’m unarmed. I wanna ask about one your soldiers.”

Nostrils flared, Mori breathed in the smell of wood polish and black coffee. “Cheeky brat.”

The boy gasped. His lavender eyes misted over. Then he smirked as before. “It won’t be long, I promise.”

Eyeing him, Mori holstered his pistol, picked up the clipboard, and sat at his desk. He straightened his dark green military jacket. The pins on his lapel and metals hanging off his chest pocket jingled. Across his desk, the tiny lad was dressed in a crisp black suit. No tie and top button undone. Too-long sleeves rolled back. Messy purple bangs almost covered his bright eyes. He could have been mistaken for a china doll.

Fingers steepled, Mori’s gravelly voice asked, “How did you get in here?”

“Does that matter? Geez, adults are so slow. Predict, not react, y’know?”

Mori raised a bushy brow. “Predict not react” to the enemy was a concept he drilled into the new recruits. How would a child understand?

Frowning, the boy leaned forward. “My brother. What happened to him?”

Mori drummed his fingers on the desk. “Name.”

“Kagami. Kagami Oma.”

Mori narrowed his dark eyes at the boy. The resemblance was uncanny. “You’re right. Oma was one of my soldiers during Ground Self-Defense Force training. Following that, he was deployed to Iraq. His squad were tasked with escorting supplies in transport.” After a long moment, Mori leaned back into his Chesterfield chair. “Sunni terrorists ambushed them. Reports say Oma stayed behind while the others saved the cargo. He’s been missing since.”

Something dark flashed across his eyes. “That’s a lie.” Scowling, Mori raised a hand. “I know it is. Just like how I know you’re an egotistical widower with no heirs or hope of promotion, who foolishly clings to the glory days.”

Mori froze. “How…?”

The boy glanced at the glass display of helmets. “Showing off the history of military suggests you have SDF officers in your own family history. A linage to live up to. To surpass. But no pictures of friends, boo hoo! Guess you only care about yourself – egotistical.” He nodded at the medals along the back wall. “And ego has no place in the battlefield or in higher ranks of SDF. So you’re stuck at home base training new recruits. No chance of making it big time anymore! Maybe an heir could live on after you. Nope!” He pointed the ring on Mori’s left hand. “Wedding ring moved to the middle finger. Either divorce or widowed. Widowed seems more likely since you didn’t throw out the ring. And the pièce de résistance…” He ran a finger across his lip. “Traces of alcohol. People drink for two reasons: to forget the present or remember the past.”

Crossing his legs, the boy lounged back as if sitting in a throne. Chin lifted, he looked down at the officer. Grinned. “Am I wrong?”

Mori gaped like a fresh recruit first seeing the warfront. “I… I have a child.”

“Oh.” Finger to his lips, the boy tilted his head. “Must be a daughter. Traditionist.”

“How are you able to…?”

“To analyze you?” Sighing, the boy ran a hand through his hair. “I learned a lot from being in the system. Met all kinds of people. Those who are in it only for the gov paychecks, nut jobs who want adopt kids to replace their own dead kids, psychos on drugs who…” He shuddered.

Voice feather soft, he whispered, “But most obvious hint that you were lying is the Onii-chan I knew wasn’t that kind of person.” A ghost of a smile hovered over his lips. “He was strict. Had his own rules and enforced them. Here in the military, I bet he was merciless to his enemies. Led the finest unit in the whole SDF. Bowed to no one.” Biting his lip, the boy looked down. “But he’d abandon anyone who showed signs of weakness.” Balled his slacks into fists. “Was a liar.” Narrowed his eyes into slits. “A murderer. A demon, my beloved Oni-chan. A demon.” 

Lips parted, Mori studied the boy.

Hands behind his head, he smiled wide. “Aw, you don’t have to worry about me. I hate liars, you see. And I won’t ever kill anyone. Scout’s honor!” His voice turned cold. “I’m better than him in every way. Especially since he gave into Father’s wishes and joined the SDF. Right, Mister Lieutenant?”

“Another Oma, you mean?” frowned Mori. “Oma’s an unusual enough surname to stick out. But I can’t recall any other Omas now or in the past.”

The boy stilled. Blinked. Swallowing, he gazed into the distance. “I guess we’re all a family of liars. Nee-heehee…” With his head down, bangs overshadowed his face. “I’d like Onii-chan’s things.”

Exhaling slowly, Mori leaned back in his chair. “I’ll have them brought here.”

* * *

Mori raised an eyebrow at the boy placing the suitcase on his desk. The metal hinges could have scratched his desk. The boy’s hands hesitated over the clasps. Then he opened them. The smell of leather arose. Camo uniforms were placed on one side. On the other was a gold trimmed peaked cap sitting on black cloth. Frowning, he unfolded the fabric. A silk black cape hung from his grasp. “These were Onii-chan’s?”

“Ah, that’s right. Oma excelled so much at training, I asked about him after he was deployed. According to his squad mates, he wore that whenever on missions. That black cape was a death flag out in the desert, but he wore it regardless.”

The boy exhaled a laugh. “Show-off. Better villain outfit than my old baseball cap and blanket cape.”

For a long moment, he stared at the outfit. The distant sound of walking drifted through the door.

Mori clasped his hands behind his back. “I heard other things from his squad mates as well. How whenever Oma sat at a desk, he’d always check underneath first. Afraid of kicking someone.” The boy looked up at Mori, eyes searching. “That he said playing chess was boring without a dramatic play-by-play and sound effects. Mentioned he joined the SDF to support his younger brother.” Mori nodded. “I’d wager he was saving up his SDF salary to put you through college. Help you start a promising career. So you could give back to your country.”

A low chuckle echoed through the office. “Is that so?” Bangs cast his face in shadow. A chilling grin stretched abnormally far across his face. “Why would I want that?”

Unconsciously, Mori’s hand reached towards his pistol.

“No, Onii-chan… He left me at an orphanage to give me a family. Joined the SDF to gain the skills he needs to be my second-in-command.” He lifted his head. Even as he smiled, a tear rolled down his cheek. “Or maybe that’s a kind lie I’m telling myself.”

He closed his eyes. Sucked in a deep breath. “Onii-chan, if I ever – No, I _will_ form a team. And together, we’ll bring the mafia to its knees. Control the stock market. Blackmail politicians.” Whipping it behind him, he donned the cape. Placed the peaked cap on his head. Grinned. “I’ll be the worst villain the world has ever seen. And, Onii-chan, you’ll always have a place as my second.”

With a flourish of the cape, he turned around. The cape flowed behind him as he headed towards the door.

Mori jerked. Raised his hand. “Wait. I never got your name. What is it?”

The boy paused. He looked over his shoulder, smirking.

* * *

Sighing in exasperation, Kaede ran a hand through her blond hair. Shuichi nervously glanced at her from beneath the brim of his hat. In the classroom before her, a robot and a boy dressed in white stood. Kaede nodded. “Oh, um, go ahead. Introduce yourself.”

Grinning, the boy spread his arms wide. “I’m Kokichi Oma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader. I’m the supreme leader of an evil secret organization.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was the hardest thing I ever wrote for multiple reasons. Hopefully I touched upon most of Kokichi's behaviors. But to me this is simply a possibility of Kokich's childhood. Feel free to tell me your version of Kokichi's backstory or share other fics which describe it. :) 
> 
> I may make this a series later on, describing events after this in which Kokichi experiences the ultimate betrayal and all the steps leading up to Kokichi creating DICE. Although if I did, it would be after typing a couple of other fics first. But let me know if you have any interest in that! Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Edit: I finally started writing the sequel to this! It's called Armageddon, and is Part 2 of the series. Check it out!


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